Don't Worry
by Host of Heaven
Summary: Weiss is... somewhere. Stuck somewhere. From what she can remember, it has something to do with the relic of creation. But before she can work on solving her predicament, she comes across a crying child. Weiss intends to give the young girl the reassurance and hope she herself never got as a child. References romantic WhiteRose. Implied domestic abuse.


Weiss wasn't sure what had just happened. Her mind was fairly blank. She stood in an expanse of chilling, hazy blue, but with no direction, and none of the chaos which she'd spent the past two years wallowing in with her friends. It was cold. Things were still. It reminded her of Atlas.

_Atlas_.

Almost as soon as the blank slate of her memories had gone, they'd started to come back. They were in Atlas. RWBY, JNR, Maria and the others – they'd been in Atlas. Something about the relics. She thought hard, trying to grasp the memories and glimpses of time as they came. Piece by piece, she reassembled the events of the past several days.

They'd come to Atlas to stow the relic of knowledge. After a very unpleasant day of navigating Atlas's military infrastructure, the team finally managed to reconnect Ozpin with Ironwood. Nobody was sure what they'd expected from the meeting exactly, but Weiss could tell almost immediately that it was not a joyous one. Ironwood had insisted he'd been right about Beacon, and about the best course of action.

After what had felt like an eternity of bickering between Ozpin, Ironwood, and Qrow, the entire entourage made their way to the vault that housed the relic of creation.

_Creation_. That was it! Weiss had met the winter maiden. She searched her mind for the face, or for the name, or for anything. But she couldn't remember. Who had the winter maiden been?

Although the maiden's profile eluded her, Weiss could not have forgotten the vault. The maiden had opened the vault. Whatever happened immediately following… Weiss just remembered as a flash of white.

She looked around in the strange place. Just seemingly endless blue and the occasional ripple of white. Just as she was about to call out to someone, anyone, there was a high-pitched whine just ahead.

A brilliant ripple of white, far more potent than what seemed typical of this place, appeared without warning. It expanded downward to some invisible floor, until it matched the ex-heiress in height. At first, there was nothing else. The whine ceased, and the light was pulsing. It was silent, but it almost reminded Weiss of the ocean. But then, the silence was rubbed away.

She started hearing whispers from the white tear. They sounded so close, she'd almost thought they were all in her head. As she stood, hesitating, the whispers and beckoning only multiplied. The voices were hushed, and they all sounded the same, but Weiss could almost swear her name was being tossed around somewhere in the sea of sound.

With no other prerogatives, and a desire for some sort of direction, Weiss stuck a hand into the light, and then - when it did not burn or blind - a leg, and then she stepped into the tear entirely. The sensation that followed was something baffling, and unpleasant. Weiss experienced a sensation of falling. But she couldn't tell _how_ she was falling. It could have been falling down, to the left, or to the right, or even upward. It was just a big blur of motion.

By the time the sensation finally stopped, she found herself in a room. And this room, she remembered all too clearly. She hated this room. She hated any memories this room could possibly bring forth. Before she could scream in disappointment, she noticed someone was crying. To her right, up against the wall of the bedroom, a little girl lay, crying tears of sorrow.

* * *

Weiss frowned. Sometimes she'd try to talk to mother, but it never went well. Even when she could manage to get close enough, mother just kind of ignored her. She'd sometimes say things, and nod as if she were engaging in some conversation, but Weiss could never understand what she was saying, or who she was nodding at. Most of the time, father didn't even let her get close. He'd always told her that mother wasn't well. Or that she couldn't talk. Or that it was best for Weiss to stay away. But that only upset the young Schnee every time. And if father caught her talking to mother without permission, she'd be punished.

Shivering at the thought of being caught, Weiss gave up on trying to talk to mother. She exited the private study without another word, and shut the woman inside. It always ended like this.

And now she was bored again. Normally at this time of day, she'd be reading her piano instructions, or talking to whomever she cold find. But there was nobody today. She was mostly alone. Winter had said she'd be off somewhere, and Whitley never bothered with her.

She sighed. Sometimes she hated being the middle child. Nobody payed much attention to her. Kids her age were supposed to be friends with other kids, but Weiss only had one kind of friend. And he was just a bit older.

"Miss Schnee." There was Klein. He was always nice to her. He was also the only one always around. "Care to go through today's catalog? Your room may have been finished sooner than expected, but I assure you, Atlesian craftsmen are still quite the visionaries."

Nodding and curtly replying a curious yes, Weiss took a spot next to Klein on a couch in one of the manor's many living rooms. They swept through the catalog, gawking at many ordinate, high-end pieces of furniture. "Wait!" Weiss stopped. "What's that?"

Weiss pointed to what looked like a freakishly tall bed. Two, even three times the height of a normal bed. "That, Miss Schnee, is a set of bunk beds."

"Bunk beds?"

"Quite. Popular with teenagers and such in the other kingdoms."

"They look cool. I like them." Weiss decided. They'd look cool if she could get one of her siblings to sleep in the same room with her. "Why don't we have bunk beds?"

Klein barely repressed a sigh. "Not in your father's taste, I'm afraid. But, just between you and me…" Klein leaned just a bit closer, and spoke just softly enough to be heard by the young Schnee. "I do think they would go wonderfully in your room. One day when you're older, alright?"

For the first and last time that day, Weiss smiled, and nodded. Bunk beds were cool.

Just then, they both heard a loud bang, followed by shouting. Any semblance of contentment disappeared from both their faces.

This time, Klein made no effort to repress his sigh, and it made Weiss nervous, for some reason she couldn't explain.

"Miss Schnee," he started, hiding the catalog somewhere in his pants, lest it be discovered. "It would be best for you to return to your room. I shall retrieve your father's medication." With a nod, Klein left Weiss to find her way.

But Weiss couldn't go back to her room. Not yet.

Instead of going to her room, she headed straight for her mother's study. It was right about above where she and Klein had been sitting. It was where the shouting was coming from. Somewhere inside, Weiss felt afraid doing this, but even more than afraid, she was sad. She was sad things had to be this way.

When Weiss finally reached the study, and opened the door, she was horrified. Her mother was on the floor, clearly flustered and red, and her father stood, towering over her form. She gasped, and covered her mouth just too late. Her father heard the noise, and turned his sights on the door, his eyes as cold, and yet, as burning as ever.

* * *

Now, as a young adult, Weiss barely remembered that day. There were others like it, but she never bothered trying to retain those memories. After long enough, some of the details had just faded, or been slowly repressed. Though, even if the sights and sounds faded, Weiss would never forget the fear and sadness she'd felt. She'd never forget what it was that led to her resolve to keep from showing weakness, and she would never forget the root of her problems.

But her younger self hadn't had the luxury of time. Weiss finally registered that she was looking at herself. A younger, more troubled self. At the sight of a child needlessly suffering, Weiss felt a flurry of emotions. Anger. Resentment. The beginnings of a bloodlust. More than anything, she felt compelled to console the crying child.

Yet, she couldn't remember meeting her future self, so long ago. So, what was this? A dream? Some not-understood facet of creation? Whatever it was, she paid it no mind. Weiss walked softly over to the single, child-sized bed. As the girl lay crying still, the huntress stroked her white hair, causing their gazes to meet at last.

The girl didn't scream. Actually, it looked to Weiss like the smaller girl wanted to hug her.

"Winter?" the child pleaded, with squinted eyes.

Weiss allowed a chuckle to slip out. As endearing as that was, in its way, she's never be like her sister, if it could be helped.

"No, but close. How old are you, Weiss?" It felt weird, referring to yourself by name.

The girl sniffed deeply, trying to little avail to clear her nose of its clogging. "Nine," she replied, clearly still shaken up. "old enough to have my own room." Ten years. It had been almost ten years since that day. More years than she'd been alive at the time, and more than half of her life, even at the age of nineteen.

"Who are you?"

The huntress cracked a smile for the first time since she'd left the safehouse that morning, feeling incredibly calm, compared to just moments ago. Apparently, being the only adult in the room was all the responsibility Weiss needed.

"My name is Weiss."

Right on cue, the girl's head shot up, and stared for a moment or two. Clearly, she thought it silly. Even at a young age, even though she'd been yearning from some reprieve from her loneliness, Weiss could remember having been adamant about not falling victim to the typical legends and lies of childhood.

To prove it to herself, Weiss slightly lowered the top of her dress to just below the neckline, revealing a small birthmark, unique in its form. When you squinted, it almost looked like a snowflake. "You also think bunk beds are cool." At that, Weiss only just managed to avoid another chuckle.

The child gasped in shock this time, and lowered the neck of her own shirt, to reveal a smaller, darker version of the same birthmark.

"I know this sounds crazy." The huntress tried to assure her younger self. "But I promise, I'm-" Weiss was abruptly cut off, and pushed a step back, by a tight hug, her smaller self crashing into her with all of the strength a nine-year old could muster.

"You're… me?" The girl asked, probably wanting to allow something nice into this very bad day. "I think I'm pretty."

"I agree. We're the best." Knowing the child was in need of some comfort, Weiss returned the embrace with as much big-sisterly care as she could perceive. It was quite a change in the dynamic she'd been used to receiving from siblings.

"I like your dress, too."

Weiss's smile stuck. And she had no intention of getting rid of it. She grabbed her younger self by the chin, and angled her head up. "Hey."

"Not hesitating to comply, the girl looked the huntress in the eye, giving her undivided attention.

"I just want you to know, that you don't have to worry." She continued stroking the shorter, thinner, younger hair. "After some time, everything's going to be fine."

"Things will get better?"

Weiss handled the question with care. In some respects, even at nineteen years old, not everything had gotten better. Not yet. "Your life gets so much better. You'll even have some really good friends."

At the mention of having friends, younger Weiss's face morphed. It wasn't quite a smile, but she'd definitely lit up. "I will? Who are they?" she asked, secretly full of hope.

Weiss rubbed the back of her head, and nodded a gentle no. "Sorry, Weiss. I don't think I can tell you everything. I'm not even sure how I'm here." She tried to let her younger self down easy, but when she saw sadness and disappointment in those eyes, she recognized the look all to well. It was the very same look she'd been forced to carry in her childhood.

Relenting, Weiss decided that she'd do what she could to help this younger self avoid some of the lonely uncertainty. She'd never wanted that for herself. "But maybe I can you a little bit about your friends."

It was enough to get the girl back up and hoping.

"Your friends are some… amusing people." They exchanged a brief glance, poised to continue the conversation . "One of them is a ninja."

"Are you serious? You expect me to believe he's an actual NINJA?"

Such genuine curiosity coming from the girl. Weiss thought it was very fitting for a relatively innocent child. "Well, no. I suppose not. But he certainly could be. He's agile, stoic, quiet, and he's one of the calmest people you'll ever meet. He has a partner, too."

"What kind of partner?"

"The person who's always at his side, fighting monsters. She's _really hyper_, and she loves pancakes more than almost anything on the planet. At least she's fun to have around, though." Weiss could almost swear she saw the beginnings of a giggle on her younger self's face, but it was gone far too quickly. "Then, there's the brawler."

"A brawler? Like, actually brawling with her fists?

"Mhm," Weiss hummed, in confirmation. "And she's the best at it. There's nobody better. Sure, she's an absolute hothead, and sometimes she punches first, asks questions later, but she's also one of the strongest, most caring people you'll ever meet."

Taking a second to mull it over, the smaller Weiss put in her two cents. "Sounds like a brute."

Weiss laughed. Slightly above a chuckle, but made sure to keep quiet enough as to avoid rousing the rest of the manor. "You're not entirely wrong."

"The huntress collected her thoughts, going over the friends she'd made in her head. "Her partner has a really calm nature, and they go really well together. A little bit on the emo side, but nobody has a better sense of justice. I'm sure any day now, I'll walk in on the two of them showing affection."

"Affection? Like mothers and fathers are supposed to show?"

They were both reminded of the parents elsewhere in the manner. Never any affection shown between them. Just shouts and drunken stupors. Weiss really wished she could make this all better. "Something like that."

"Gross."

"You say that now. Just watch, you'll be cheering them on, one day."

The girl only responded with a 'hmph'.

"Then, there's a blonde boy." All attention was not back on the huntress. "He's _really_ dense. Kind of an idiot. But he has a good heart. Even so, he'll do anything to protect his friends, and he's never been one to break a promise."

As Weiss recounted the relationships she'd come to treasure in the two years since applying to Beacon, there was, of course, one that stood out above all the rest. The one she held nearest and dearest to her heart. The girl she might never have fallen for, were it not for a chance meeting in the forest.

"Last but not least, there's your BFF."

The younger Weiss couldn't help but visibly perk up, as if she'd won a prize. "I… have a BFF? A best friend?" The huntress could just hear the hope and relief dripping out of the child's mouth. If felt good, knowing she could provide this younger version of herself with some much-needed assurance. If the girl couldn't get it from her parents, or from her older sister, then Weiss would damn well give it herself.

"That and more. This friend…" Weiss took a moment, trying to find the best words to describe the impact Ruby had made on her life. Maybe even more than Ruby understood, Weiss's entire world had changed for the better, and she'd never be able to thank Ruby enough for it. The rest of their lives would be spent with Weiss showing her appreciation

"This friend… is the best friend you'll ever have. She's the cutest thing you'll ever see. She has an almost unsettling, but somehow adorable, obsession with guns and blades. She's a dork, but she's changed our entire world for the better, with just her presence. She's our dolt, but she's shown us that there are experiences and feelings to life we never thought appropriate. She makes us happy."

"Wow. She sounds like an amazing friend."

"She's the best."

"Do we show her affection?"

The unexpected question caused Weiss to blush lightly, remembering all the kisses and cuddles she and Ruby shared after the victory at Haven. It was heaven. It was loving. Despite almost dying, it was one of the happiest periods of time Weiss could recall.

"Maybe".

The younger Weiss shrugged her shoulders, appearing to reconcile her desire for friends with her reservation about affection. "I guess I can live with that."

It was Weiss's turn to 'hmph'. "Just you wait."

As the conversation came to a stall, and as Weiss was settling into the noticeably lighter atmosphere in the bedroom, she noticed what looked like her aura encasing her body. It shone brilliantly.

"What's happening?" her younger self asked, confused.

Before she could answer, Weiss's entire being blinked, her body fading in and out, alternating between material and ethereal, and in momentary visions, she could see a very familiar face. And a very familiar red cloak.

"I think I know what's happening." With a reserved sigh, Weiss turned to her younger. "I think… I think I have to go now, Weiss."

The girl frowned. When big Weiss left, it would go back to normal. She would go back to being alone. She _really_ didn't like that.

"Wait!" she called softly, wanting to get one more answer, if nothing else. "When will I meet my friends?", she asked, visibly nervous, and slightly saddened.

Before she could fade from this time entirely, Weiss left her younger self with some final reassurance. "Don't worry, Weiss. You _will_ meet them someday. Everything will be fine. I promise." And then she was gone, and a nine-year old Weiss was left alone, wondering if she'd be able to hold onto these memories long enough.


End file.
